


In A Mood

by draconicsockpuppet



Category: Dwarf Fortress, Untitled Goose Game (Video Game)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Strange Mood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21547492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draconicsockpuppet/pseuds/draconicsockpuppet
Summary: Ideas were dangerous.Each dwarf could have only one great idea in their life, and it would strike without warning. Success meant knowing that the greatest work of their lives now lay behind them and could never be equaled. Failure meant madness, suffering, and death.Such was the fate of the dwarves.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 43
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	In A Mood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [krionachen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/krionachen/gifts).



Ideas were dangerous.

All dwarves knew this. If you had one, it would take you over and seep through your brain until there was nothing left but the dream, the _vision_ that would consume your life for the next few weeks. Each dwarf could have only one great idea in their life, and it would strike without warning. Success meant knowing that the most beautiful work of their lives now lay behind them and could never be equaled. Failure meant madness, suffering, and death.

Such was the fate of the dwarves.

When Sazir Treatymatches rose from the dinner table, a bite of masterful alpaca cheese roast suddenly tasteless in her mouth, she knew her doom had come upon her. A fisherdwarf in the desert had few prospects, so she'd been reassigned to the glassmaking workshops. Over the last few months she'd made green glass blocks aplenty, but was barred from anything more complicated until she had proven her skills.

If she survived this vision, this strange mood, she would stand among the greatest glassmakers in the fortress. But only if she lived.

Did they even _have_ rock crystal?

The bookkeeper said no; none showed in the fortress inventories, at least. Sazir returned to her furnace to brood and sigh over her sketches and lists.

"Excuse me," said the bookkeeper, peering over Sazir's shoulder at her sketches. "I found the glass you needed. For some reason it was sitting in the trade depot, marked forbidden."

But as the bookkeeper was not a lump of the appropriate kind of glass, she barely registered as a distant hum of sound, unremarkable and unintelligible. Certainly not worth considering while Sazir had her vision to mope over.

"I'm just… going to leave this here," the bookkeeper said, and put a lump of precious crystal glass on the floor before backing away slowly.

Exactly what she needed! Sazir snatched the lump up from the floor and placed it on the furnace workbench. Now she needed gems, and wood, and some leather…

When she returned from the upper workshop stockpile, where the raw gemstones were kept, her glass was gone. Sazir stopped and stared at the empty furnace workbench in horror.

A trail of muddy webbed footprints led off through the rows of glass furnaces. Sazir punched the workbench, dropped the suddenly useless chunk of peridot she'd hauled all the way down here, and began to follow the thief's trail.

It led in a circle back to her furnace. Now the peridot was gone too. Sazir screamed in frustration.

"Honk!" said the feathery thief, and away it ran on its little muddy orange feet; up the steps, floor after floor, until both goose and dwarf reached the well room right above the caverns.

 _Woosh,_ went the uncut gemstone into the well, and then Sazir heard a distant _plop_ as it hit the water below.

Sazir stared at the horrible goose. If it had thrown her gemstone into the lake, what about her glass?

"Honk!"

Where would she get another lump of crystal glass? Where had she gotten the first one, for that matter?

Sazir returned to her furnace, laid her head on the workbench, and began to weep. Time passed, indeterminable. All times were as one for a dwarf with an unattainable dream.

"That bad, huh." The bookkeeper patted her on the shoulder. "There, there." But as she was not the all-important piece of glass, the bookkeeper's presence barely registered with Sazir.

The bookkeeper had a folded towel in her hand, and from it she took the lump of crystal glass, still damp, and the piece of peridot. As soon as she put them on the floor, Sazir perked up.

Crystal glass!

It went on the workbench.

Rough gem!

That too went on the workbench.

Now she needed… wood.

"I'll stay here and keep an eye on your things," the bookkeeper said. "Hopefully the locked door will stop the goose from throwing everything into the lake again."

But as the bookkeeper was not a piece of wood, Sazir had more important things on her mind.

Most of the wood in the fortress was kept in a single towering stack that reached to the ceiling, somehow encompassing a forest within the same amount of space a fine granite pot might take. That was far up the stairs, near the surface. Yet the woodcutters had recently clearcut the shallowest, safest cavern, and there was a tower cap log still laying unclaimed near the central stairwell. It wasn't a lot closer than the wood stockpile, but every step counted. Sazir grabbed the log and took it back downstairs.

The bookkeeper was laid out unconscious on the floor, her arms and legs spread out wide like a starfish, and she was covered with muddy goose footprints. Sazir didn't notice. The glass and gem were gone again! She dropped the log and sat and sniffled. Her dream… her wonderful dream…

"Honk!"

The goose ran off with her log. Sazir didn't care. Everything was terrible. Her glass… where was her crystal glass…

The bookkeeper sat up. "That damned goose." She groaned as she stood and brushed off the dirt. "I'll go get your things back, okay?"

Time passed in a haze. Without the glass, there was no point to anything. Everything was terrible, everything was useless. She had to have that glass.

A rhythmic squishing sound entered the workshop.

 _Plop_ went a soggy towel on the workbench.

 _Thump_ went a tower cap log on the workbench.

"I hate that bloody goose," said the bookkeeper. She and her clothes were soaked through and dripping, leaving lake muck all over the floor, and long strands of algae were tangled in her hair. "Here. Please don't be dead."

Sazir perked up. Glass! She retrieved the lump of crystal glass from within the towel; it was cracked through, but she didn't care. She only needed the raw material.

And there was the gem she needed, too!

And the log!

Truly, a spectacular day. She only needed the leather now and she could begin work on the most important project she'd ever make.

"Don't leave me here…" came the bookkeeper's voice behind her. But it was too late. Sazir was halfway up the stairs to the upper workshop stockpile again, driven by her deep and all-consuming need to finish the artifact in her vision.

There was a goose sitting on the closest leather bin.

"Honk!" went the goose, and attacked. Sazir defended herself the only way she knew how: with a mad flurry of fists, the depths of her conviction that she must make this artifact or die trying lending her blows extra strength.

Unfortunately, geese can dodge.

Her fists were powerful but her balance was faulty; Sazir fell to the ground. The goose leapt back up on the bin and started honking as she picked herself up.

"I need leather," she told it. "Get out of the way."

The goose bit at her and refused to budge.

There was leather in other bins, but the top piece in this bin was the closest to her workbench. Sazir needed it; no other piece would do. She reached out her hand and received a powerful buffeting of white wings in return for her temerity.

"Let me just…" The bookkeeper, who was now standing in the entryway of the stockroom for some reason, jotted down a note on a scroll in her hand. "There."

Sazir suddenly felt as though all the leather in the goose's bin no longer existed. She ran and grabbed a piece of tanned ostrich skin out of the next leather bin down the row – which, luckily, did not have a goose on it – and scurried back downstairs to the workshop.

Her glass was gone again.

"I figured it was best to keep the goose from stealing everything _every_ time we do this," the bookkeeper said as she set the crystal glass, the raw gemstone, and the log back down on the workbench. "Here, go make your… whatever it is. I'll try to distract the goose until you're done."

Success! Sazir had all the pieces she needed.

She set to work.

* * *

**Sazir Ilraldalzat, Fisherdwarf has created Otamsodzul, a crystal glass nest box!**  
**Otamsodzul, "Nosegurgles", is a crystal glass nest box. All craftsdwarfship is of the highest quality. This object is adorned with hanging rings of peridot and menaces with spikes of ostrich leather.**  
**On the item is an image of rat weed in tower cap wood.**  
**On the item is an image of Nosegurgles the crystal glass nest box in tower cap wood.**  
**On the item is an image of forgotten beasts in tower cap wood.**  
**On the item is an image of rectangular cabochons in tower cap wood.**  
**On the item is an image of Sazir Treatymatches the dwarf and a goose in tower cap wood. Sazir Treatymatches is yelling at the goose.**

* * *

"Now do you recognize me?"

Sazir blinked. Her task was complete; the most nightmarish experience of her life was over. She had lived. She had entered the ranks of legends.

And she remembered now: the bookkeeper who had stood by her side all this time was her wife, Ducim Crescentowl. They had moved to Clearcanyon together less than a year ago; Ducim had been assigned to the administration burrow while Sazir learned to make glass.

Sazir had forgotten everything while the mood took her, but she was whole again.

"Hi, honey." Sazir wiped her damp hair out of her face. "I feel like I just got run over by a ten ton minecart."

Ducim snorted. "Yeah, me too." She patted Sazir gently on the back. "Look on the smooth side of the stone. You never have to go through that again."

Sazir clung to Ducim's arm and looked around the workshop blearily. "Where is Nosegurgles?"

"Your fancy nest box?" Ducim waved at the door with her free hand. "The haulers took it. Maybe they'll give it to that damned goose."

Sazir laughed in relief and laid her head on Ducim's shoulder.

"You know what? That's fine by me."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for requesting both these tiny fandoms of my heart, krionachen!
> 
> Thanks to Demitas for beta reading.


End file.
